The lawyer no longer wrote at railroad speed; he pushed back his
chair, brought the will to the bed, and placed the pen in the
trembling yellow hand of the invalid.
"You must sign your name here," he said, pointing with his finger;
and the Major raised himself a little, and brought the pen
quaveringly down towards the paper. With a sort of fascination I
watched the finely-pointed steel nib; it trembled for an instant or
two, then the pen dropped from the convulsed fingers, and with a cry
of intolerable anguish the Major fell back.
For some minutes there was a painful struggle; presently we caught a
word or two between the groans of the dying man.
"Too late!" he gasped, "too late!" And then a dreadful vision of
horrors seemed to rise before him, and with a terror that I can
never forget he turned to his son and clutched fast hold of his
hands: "Derrick!" he shrieked.
Derrick could not speak, but he bent low over the bed as though to
screen the dying eyes from those horrible visions, and with an odd
sort of thrill I saw him embrace his father.
When he raised his head the terror had died out of the Major's face;
all was over.
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